Scarred
by jtav
Summary: A botched surgery left Shepard's scars permanent. And the only woman who hasn't run screaming is the one who wanted to put a control chip in his head. Lovely. A series of short stories.
1. Beast

Nick could feel the eyes of the other bar patrons on him. No one screamed or called him a freak. The patrons of the Dark Star were too sophisticated for that, but he noticed their stares and the way they edged away from him as they passed his stool. _What's the matter? Never seen a man with glowing eyes before? _He gulped down another whiskey. The same enhancements that made him look like he'd escaped from techno-hell also made it damn hard to get properly drunk. There were days he hated Cerberus for that more than anything.

A pretty blonde sat three seats down, nursing a glass of some asari wine Nick couldn't even pronounce properly. Her hair and skin looked as if they had been bleached religiously until she resembled every other vid actress, but she had nice high cheekbones and an athletic enough body. He could feel vague stirrings of lust course through him. There had been a time when he wouldn't have given her a second glance. Women had been throwing themselves at him since he'd hit puberty, and it had only gotten worse after the Battle of the Citadel. He'd been able to be strictly professional on missions because he always knew sex would be waiting for him like an old friend once he got back. And now he sat staring at Ms. Generic Pathetic. But he wasn't much for watching her run screaming from the room—or worse, fucking him out of pity—so he drank.

"Looking for a little R&R, Shepard?"

Nick turned to look up at Miranda. It was the first time he'd ever seen her off duty. She'd exchanged her uniform and armor for a white blazer that did nothing to disguise her curves. And she seemed to hold herself differently. Some of the tension that always seemed to swirl around her had left. Not all of it, but enough that he could almost imagine that she wasn't both his immediate subordinate and the person assigned to put a bullet in his skull if he ever went too far off the reservation. "Have a seat, Lawson." When she hesitated, he added, "Come on, I only look like something that'll eat you alive."

She winced almost imperceptibly but sat down. Miranda didn't say anything about his scars, but she never did. She had never apologized for making him what he was. Why should she? It wasn't her fault Wilson had forced her to wake him up before he was fully recovered. She wasn't the one who had virtually promised him that the dermal regeneration procedure would work. When Chakwas had suggested it, she had told him outright that she didn't know if it would work. He'd been desperate to look normal again, so he'd gone ahead with the procedure. And now he was stuck like this.

"Not smart to be seen with me." She gestured dismissively at the blonde. "She'll think you're taken."

He took another drink. It was weird the way Miranda could read his mind sometimes. It would've been different if they were friends, but she treated him with the same cold politeness that she used for everyone except Jacob. And she was Cerberus. She said it was her job to see that he succeeded in stopping the Collector attacks, but he knew better. She was his minder. It was a bit hard to confide in someone when you knew that everything you said would end up in a report to the Illusive Man. "How did you know I was thinking about her?"

She gave him a familiar half-smile, the one she used when she knew more than he did. "I rebuilt you, remember? That includes your brain. I probably know you better than you know yourself. It was my job for two years to learn everything I could about you."

Nick wasn't sure which was scarier: what she'd said or the utter casualness with which she'd said it. Miranda was the one the people in the bar ought to be backing away from, not him. He looked around. Several of the men and a few of the women were staring appreciatively at her. Idiots. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." Another drink. Damn it, was he going to have to start drinking ryncol now? "It doesn't matter anyway. Much rather talk to someone who won't think I'm a freak."

Her eyes darkened slightly. Nick felt the skin on the back of his arms prickle. There was something terrifying and fascinating about her eyes, like watching a fire that could burn everything in its path, but never went out of control. "This constant self-pity of yours is getting very tiresome."

He shrugged. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's my business the moment it starts affecting morale. The entire crew has noticed your constant scowling since the operation failed. And, need I remind you, that the commander—"

"—sets the tone for the whole mission. I know. I just don't know what to do about it." Nick frowned in irritation. He didn't want to be having this conversation with anyone, especially not too-beautiful, too confident Miranda Lawson who had probably never been turned down in her life. She reminded him too much of what he used to be. He forced a smile. "I know! I'll go live in a nice dark castle and wait for a beautiful but virtuous woman to come and break the spell so I can turn back into a handsome prince."

She shook her head in exasperation, but some of the anger had left her. "Well, at least the sarcasm is intact. Nice to know I did something right. But unless you want to be sitting in bars drinking truly abominable cheap whiskey for the entirety of every shore leave, you're going to have to make an effort."

"It's not what I want. All I want is somebody who won't make a big deal about the lovely glow-in-the-dark eyes Cerberus gave me."

She smiled a little, trying to be warm. "Those 'glow-in-the-dark eyes' represent the greatest medical advance humanity has ever seen. That's all that they are. Anyone who can't see that is a fool. Doubly so if they can't see your other good qualities for them."

Nick smiled inwardly. She wanted him to stop feeling sorry for himself. Maybe a little teasing was just what the doctor ordered. "You think I have good qualities? Why Ms. Lawson, you should have told me sooner. I wouldn't have wasted a moment in a place like this when I could have you."

She flushed slightly. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

He drained the last of the whiskey and signaled the bartender for another. He could finally,feel the familiar warmth spreading through him. Maybe he could get properly drunk after all. "Seriously, I think you're the only person I've met since I woke up that's never stared at me. Even Joker's still a little weirded out." _And you'd never sleep with me in a million years._ Not that a one night stand with Miranda would be terrible. She was gorgeous, after all. Smart, too, even if she was a bit stuck up about it. They might even manage to have a decent conversation afterward.

No. He wouldn't let his mind head off in that direction. She was icy. He'd never seen her smile except ironically. She was his subordinate. She was a _terrorist_ for God's sake. If it hadn't been for the Collectors, he would have arrested her and dropped her off at the nearest Alliance detention facility.

She was also the only remotely attractive woman he trusted not to lie to him about his looks. Miranda had never lied to him, not even about the control chip. And it wasn't like there were any brass to stop them.

Fucking hell.

Next: Stealing Memory


	2. Insurance Policy

AN: Apologies for the lack of Kasumi's LM, but this story needed to come first.

* * *

><p>From: Cerberus Command<p>

To: Commander Nicolas Shepard, Normandy SR-2

Subject: Intercepted correspondence

We intercepted the following communication between Admiral Hackett and Alliance Internal Naval Affairs. The Illusive Man thought it was in the best interest of the mission to pass it to you.

_To: Admiral Steven Hackett_

_Subject: Taking Action on Commander Shepard's return._

_Sir,_

_We've confirmed sightings of Commander Shepard on Omega, and that the Commander is now working for the terrorist organization Cerberus. Several Alliance officials have let it be known that they consider it crucial that we interrogate humanity's first Spectre on his apparent desertion of the Alliance and the Citadel. There is some concern about the possible political and strategic ramifications of what is possibly desertion and treason. If we bring Shepard in now, the possibility still remains that the affair can be handled quietly and without the need for a public investigation and possible trial. I'm sure you would agree the Alliance can ill afford such an embarrassment in light of our increased role on the galactic stage. I'm formally requesting that you rescind your order against Alliance contact with Shepard._

_Rest assured that our department is committed to Commander Shepard's safety. Providing that the commander is cooperative regarding his previous whereabouts and current work with Cerberus and that we determine that no charges are warranted, we anticipate being able to release Shepard from custody within five to seven months from the date of acquisition._

_Respectfully awaiting your reply, _

_Major Antella _

_Department of Internal Naval Affairs _

Nick stared at the email in disbelief. Treason. They were talking about charging him with treason. Was this some kind of joke? He read the letter again. It wasn't a joke. He could feel a quiet, simmering fury coursing through him. After everything, he'd done for the Alliance, this Major Antella—who had never even met him as far as he knew—wanted to bring him in for interrogation. He wasn't the only one. How many others believed he was a terrorist and a traitor because he had been forced to work with Cerberus?

And he had been forced. At first it had been a matter of simple survival. He had still been recovering from whatever Lazarus had done to him, and he hadn't trusted himself to be able to take out both Jacob and Miranda. He'd been planning to escape as soon as he could manage it. And then he had seen what had happened on Freedom's Progress. The Council and the Alliance were too busy playing politics and sticking their fingers in their ears to do anything about it. He'd hold his nose and work with Cerberus if it meant saving lives. Wasn't that what the Alliance was supposed to do? Protect humanity?

He had no illusions about Cerberus. They were a pack of racist terrorists who had murdered two squads of marines and an Alliance admiral, no matter how Miranda tried to pretty it up. The Illusive Man probably planned to throw him under the bus the second he'd served his purposes. Nick could name at least two high-ranking Cerberus agents. It would be too risky to let him run around. And now the Alliance was out for him too. He needed leverage. Some intel he could upload to Alliance command to prove he wasn't a traitor. He was on a Cerberus ship and he'd always been good with computers. He could find something to placate Antella while he saved the colonists.

"Commander?" Kelly's voice crackled to life on the intercom. "Operative Lawson requests to see you in her office immediately."

Nick schooled his features into a neutral mask - or at least the closest he could do with a face that seemed designed to scare the hell out of everyone not named Miranda Lawson - and stepped into the elevator. A few of the off-duty crewmen sat talking quietly in the mess. They looked up as he passed before hastily returning to them conversation. Nick gave them a perfunctory nod. He wondered how long it would take them to stop reacting to his scars. How long it would take _him_ to stop reacting to the scarring?

Miranda sat at her desk, leaning forward slightly and with her hands clasped together. Her gaze was cold and professional, as if she were sizing him up and searching for weaknesses she could exploit. She probably was. "We've received a report that one of our operatives has been captured by Eclipse mercenaries. The Illusive Man wants us to investigate and free him if possible."

Nick folded his arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Aren't you the one who always says that nothing can sidetrack us from the mission?"

Her eyes seemed to harden the smallest fraction. "Whether you like it or not, Cerberus is funding your mission. That means assisting us in closing any possible security leaks is in your best interest."

"No. I already have enough trouble without saving Cerberus from its own mistakes."

Understanding seemed to dawn in her eyes. "Is this about certain members of the Alliance wanting to bring you in for treason?"

Nick fought the urge to gape at her. "You re reading my mail?" He shook his head. "Of course you are."

She arched a single eyebrow. "I usually skip the many, many messages from people thanking you for everything that you've done for them." Something that might've been bitterness crept into her voice. "The Alliance is full of idiots. They hate you for working with us when we're the only people who are willing to do the job they should be doing and protecting humanity. What do you think would have happened had you survived the destruction of the first _Normandy?_ They would have patted you on the head and given you your medals and sent you very far away from anything with even a whiff of Reapers. You may not trust me or Cerberus yet, but what makes you think you can trust the Alliance?"

A small, rational voice conceded that she was probably right. Nick remembered how furious he and Joker had both been that they were assigned to track down the remnants of the geth. It was like going after the driver of the get away car instead of the man who had actually robbed the bank. The rest of him was too angry to care. "It beats wondering when you're going to shoot me in the back. We both know you're here to stop me if I do something your boss doesn't like. I guess not having the control chip makes things harder for you."

Color appeared on her cheeks. Her eyes darkened. A muscle worked in her jaw. When she spoke her voice was as cold and sharp as an ice pick. "I have no intention of harming you, Shepard. I put two years of my life into bringing you back to life. Everyone on this project sacrificed a lot for you. I intend to make sure that those sacrifices were not in vain." She took a deep breath. "I'm the best friend you have right now. I gave up far too much to discard you. So as long as you don't do anything stupid, you'll be fine."

_Bitter about spending two years on that station, are we?_ Not that she seemed to have many friends or a life beyond her work. "And helping you rescue this operative would prove that I'm not stupid?"

"Something like that. Mostly I'm concerned about the data he was carrying. Mercenaries are, well, mercenary. There's no telling where the data will end up."

"Did you say data?" Nick allowed himself a small smile. He had a plan.

* * *

><p>The interrogation room smelled of stale blood and various fluids that Nick preferred not to identify. Rawling's body lay on a metal table on the near side of the room. His face was twisted into a permanent grimace of pain and his arms were covered with track marks from repeated injections. Nick frowned. Not even Cerberus agents deserved to die so painfully.<p>

He moved to the computer and switched on his omni-tool. Streams of random numbers flowed down the screen. Top level encryption. Wonderful. The mercs had been right. It would take months or years to decode this without a cipher. "EDI, can you give me something?"

"It is beyond my processing power to decrypt this immediately. However, documents addressed to Operative Rawlings suggest that the data could incriminate Cerberus if it were ever circulated publicly."

Nick stared at the screen. EDI said it was what he needed, but there was no way to verify that. Even if he uploaded the data to the Alliance, he doubted that they would take his word on faith. Or they might be so desperate to bring down Cerberus that they would believe him. Anderson would almost certainly trust him.

"I know what you're thinking." Miranda's voice was quiet. Someone who didn't know her would almost mistake her for sympathetic. "Even if that data did help repair your relationship with the Alliance, do you really think they would take the Collector or Reaper threat seriously? Don't spite the only people willing to take you seriously."

He chuckled, but it was a hollow and halfhearted sound. "Because it would be stupid?"

She didn't smile. "Because I know you. You spared the only surviving rachni queen even though you knew the Council would be furious. When you thought we were an Alliance black ops organization, you turned down what could have been a very lucrative and useful association with the Shadow Broker rather than turn on the Alliance. You went out of your way to save Feros. Whatever you may think of Cerberus, I know that you won't allow the Collectors to take any more colonists if you can help it. And harming Cerberus is harming the people who want to help them."

Damn it. It would've been different if the data was more obviously damning. The admirals might've been grateful enough to at least investigate the possibility that the Collectors were behind this. But still-unknown information wouldn't help. It might deflect suspicion from him for a little while, but the rumors would continue to persist. And yet, he couldn't just hand the data back to Cerberus Command. Then he really would be a traitor. Toombs and Kahoku would never forgive him.

Perhaps there was a way to placate both Miranda and his conscience, and maybe get himself a little breathing room at the same time. He pressed a button on his omni-tool, and it beeped reassuringly. "Making personal copy. EDI, I want you to upload a second copy to the _Normandy's _databanks. He looked at Miranda. "I can't stop you from accessing the data, but Emily Wong and a whole bunch of admirals really want to talk to me these days. If anything ever happened to me, I might just have to arrange for a copy of the data to be sent to them."

Miranda's voice was somewhere between exasperated, furious, and impressed. "Someday, commander, I'll prove to you that Cerberus is not your enemy."

"Someday, Ms. Lawson, I'll prove to you that Cerberus is wrong."


End file.
